


i don't know about the future (that's all stuff and nonsense)

by falsemurmur



Category: Grey's Anatomy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-12-18
Updated: 2009-12-18
Packaged: 2017-10-04 12:34:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,116
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30126
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/falsemurmur/pseuds/falsemurmur
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><em>She returns to Seattle Grace Hospital, to “face my demons” she murmurs over a glass of whiskey in Joe’s bar, Alex vaguely listening to her one night.</em></p>
            </blockquote>





	i don't know about the future (that's all stuff and nonsense)

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
**Current music:** |   
[Missy Higgins](http://www.last.fm/music/Missy+Higgins) \- [Stuff and Nonsense](http://www.last.fm/music/Missy+Higgins/_/Stuff+and+Nonsense) | Powered by [Last.fm](http://www.last.fm/)  
  
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**Entry tags:** |   
[pairing: addison/alex](http://community.livejournal.com/wings_for_craft/tag/pairing:+addison/alex), [tv: grey's anatomy](http://community.livejournal.com/wings_for_craft/tag/tv:+grey%27s+anatomy), [type: oneshot](http://community.livejournal.com/wings_for_craft/tag/type:+oneshot)  
  
  
_**i don't know about the future (that's all stuff and nonsense)**_  
**title: **i don't know about the future (that's all stuff and nonsense)  
**fandom: **Grey's Anatomy  
**summary: **_She returns to Seattle Grace Hospital, to “face my demons” she murmurs over a glass of whiskey in Joe’s bar, Alex vaguely listening to her one night._  
**characters/pairings:** Alex Karev, Addison Forbes Montgomery (Alex/Addison)  
**genre(s):** Angst/Romance  
**rating: **PG-13  
**note: **season five finale spoilers. this was basically written for [](http://daydreamings.livejournal.com/profile)[**daydreamings**](http://daydreamings.livejournal.com/) &amp; [](http://gaspily.livejournal.com/profile)[**gaspily**](http://gaspily.livejournal.com/) awhile back, but i liked the ficlet enough to want to turn it into something a tad longer. i added some detail to the sections, and wrote some new parts toward the end. in addition to the two aforementioned ladies, i want to dedicate this to [](http://hookedupforfun.livejournal.com/profile)[**hookedupforfun**](http://hookedupforfun.livejournal.com/) for motivating me to finish fleshing out this little fic. hope you enjoy.~*~  
Time has this odd need to forget the pause button and travel on despite the cries of humanity to stop, _just stop_. There are lives that need to be gathered, broken hearts to pick up, and moments to cherish, but time’s a bitch that doesn’t listen.

Alex Karev never used to mind it much. Not until his wife’s skin grew paler and her eyes bleaker. Not until her smiles were near impossible to form and the hold of her hand became limp. He just wanted the world to pause, to give him one more minute, to let him and Izzie be. But time never listened, and the weeks passed quickly until Izzie came to pass as well, and then time never went by so slowly.

*

But he was fine.

He got up to work the morning after her death. Because that was his job, and he and Izzie had known what would happen. Alex and Izzie had been prepared for the worst--especially Alex. Life was not a piece of cake, nor was it considerate of every living organism enduring some unfortunate situation, as he had learned too many times to matter. Alex was prepared, so he pushed himself out of his bed (it was only his bed, not his and Izzie’s, because for Chrissakes, a bed can’t belong to someone who’s dead), turned off the alarm clock, got dressed, grabbed his backpack, and went to work.

There were looks from nurses and a few attending, and even from Cristina (Cristina, seriously) and the Chief. Not too long after the Chief’s look, Meredith ambushed him from corner, told him, “what the hell are you doing here?” in that shrill voice of hers, but Alex blew her off saying, “working”. And the looks continued for about a week, with the only person treating him like a piece of crap rather than an injured puppy was Mark Sloan. Mark Sloan of all people knew what to do with him, showing Alex that the guy was worth something at least.

So Alex worked despite the protests, and he got better at his job and better at keeping his mouth shut. _It’s what Izzie would have wanted_, he eventually tells Meredith, and he knew she‘d tell Cristina and there was the end of the line. No spreading the word to Izzie who’d spread the word to George. Just Cristina and Meredith, and not even him. He was something else, on his own now.

**

Addison comes back because, well that’s what happens. LA turns out to be a hassle and this gives way for the epiphany to end all epiphanies -_ it’s not about the scenery, surroundings, or the people. It’s about you. If you run away, it’s your problem. Turning your back and leaving doesn’t resolve things. It’s just an easy escape._

She figures this out and she returns to Seattle Grace Hospital, to “face my demons” she murmurs over a glass of whiskey in Joe’s bar, Alex vaguely listening to her one night.

*

She works more than she breathes the first few nights and days in the hospital. Aside from bouts of conversations with Callie, Addison doesn’t socialize or partake in the conversations or rumors of the hospital staff. She simply works, overworks, a lot like Alex. And it’s not that Alex and Addison bond over this, it’s just that they stay out of each other’s ways by facilitating the other’s work.

And it’s not like a routine, but they do head to the Emerald Bar every Tuesday and Friday night, sit next to each other, drink, share some mundane conversation about obstetrics, and go their separate ways after a couple of hours. It’s _not_ a routine and it definitely is not a bonding experience.

*

Eventually, they sleep together. The natural course of life, it appears. The talking and drinking leads to sex, and it’s always quick--the sex that is. Unlike the talking, which is nice and slow and goes at a good rate, the sex is quick (not that it isn’t good).

They have sex once. Twice. Thrice. Okay, after awhile, it’s easier to stop keeping track, and they don’t even care to pretend they’re drunk anymore. He accompanies her to her hotel, says goodnight, and sometimes she tugs at his coat and other times he fingers her waistline: either way he pushes her into the room or she pulls him in.

Their clothing always falls rather quickly to the floor, their kisses are strong but messy, their tongues fighting each other, her nails digging into his back, his hands gripping her hips, etc., etc., etc.

This goes on for two months (yes, two months), and it‘s all but a flash. Until she moves into her new apartment, suddenly causing Alex to push for a pause, which confuses her, angers her and she tells him they’ll _never be anything_.

*

Addison’s confusion and disappointment wins out. Anyway, she’s not herself. She’s not the Addison who crushed expectations and judgments with her heels. She’s not the Addison who stayed and fought. She’s not the Addison who knew better than to sleep with the first man who didn’t stay away from her, as though she wore a sign “Caution: Under Construction” like a necklace.

She’s the Addison who ran away, tried on a different lifestyle, realized much too late (after too many mistakes) that it didn’t fit, stayed until she found a replacement for herself at the private practice, leaving everything tied into its place. At least she managed to do that one thing--she said her goodbyes, promised to call, to visit, and that was that. She didn’t leave it like she left Seattle Grace Hospital, and for that she gave herself credit.

So she returning to Seattle Grace Hospital to see something through--no one could be perceptive enough to know what that something was. Hence, time would have to be given. She had to stick to her guns, stand by and not run away, not turn her back, and not cower in fear. There were patients, an actual operating room, certified nurses on hand, and surgeons who understand the rush of surgery--competition even. That was another reason she had returned.

Alex Karev and sexual relationships in general were not a reason. In fact, they were nowhere near the list of possibilities. She had gone to find footing in a place that had made her slip, not to find a someone.

But okay, she has feelings for him. All those nights talking in the bar--it’s done things to her which she hated. So the sex was fine (they were adults, mature adults even) and good because it was just sex. It was quick. No thinking involved. And just as abruptly, he wanted to stop and then go on? _Now_ he wants to kiss her softly, hands tilting her head, bodies close but not entwined?

It was a path she had all but put a roadblock sign up on, and a key element to catastrophes. Because Alex Karev doesn’t really want her. Of this she’s convinced.

*

Every morning he has two coffee cups in his hand, one prepared to her liking. On the good days, and even the okay ones, she takes it and says “thank you”. On the dreary days when she’s beyond irritated, she snags the coffee cups and throws it down the nearest trashcan. On the worse days, she doesn’t look at his offering.

She never takes him up on his offer to grab lunch together or to go out for a drink when their shifts are over.

*

Every morning he does this, to show her that he’s not giving up, that he’s willing. That he wants her. Even if on those days when a “thank you” is far from her lips, all he wants to do yell at her until she’s red in the face. Even on those days.

*

There’s a case where she loses both a baby and a would-be mother, and of all the tragedies in the world, that makes her fold against him in comfort. It’s not the best scenario, and for her defenses to fall in that manner are infuriating, but she doesn‘t come to him to be judged or interrogated, that he knows.

She cries and cries and she thanks him when she’s done. He says “you’re welcome” and he’s just thankful that she doesn’t flinch away when he kisses the crown of her head.

*

It is as if she is an open book to him now.

She murmured things over those glasses of alcohol in that bar before they began having sex that she and he could pretend were never uttered. And sometimes she still told him things after the sex, but the space wasn’t so intimate that her mutterings could be attributed to pillow talk. They were just polite exchanges before one or the other disappeared and life went on.

But it was all in the clear now. It would be useless to pretend that her words were anything less than confiding. She was an open book, but he remained nearly as closed as the day she returned to the hospital, with Alex Karev standing over an operating table, performing surgery, only speaking when asking for an instrument, seeming more isolated than the average surgeon.

She would see him off in corners of his world, nearly always mute--except when a patient or visitor would piss him off, and then nothing could shut him up.

She would see him shrugging off his friends, Meredith Grey and Cristina Yang, and the two women were not known for being emotive, but she saw flickers of fear and weary when they eyed Alex Karev.

“Give him a chance,” Callie eventually says, and Addison is sure her friend is either sleep-deprived or has taken something that morning.

“He talks to you when he works. He doesn’t talk to anyone, period, since Izzie died. He brings you coffee, even tries a smile--which he sucks at, but hey, he tries. And he wants to be there for you, for someone other than himself. He’s a good guy, Addison.”

Addison smirks at her friend, with a raised eyebrow. Addison stands corrected, as her friend is more bitten by love than anything else. It does not erase the wear and tear of Addison’s heart.

*

Their screams harbor enough attention to be brought to the attention of the Chief, and Addison and Alex stop working on any cases together.

It takes six weeks of this and no coffee from Alex until Addison dials his number and tells him “I miss you”.

*

He holds her hand when a case becomes difficult, and she rubs his back when he’s reminded of Izzie or George. The rumors whip around them, but they don’t pay much attention. The days and nights run together, and it’s too much of a hassle and a waste of time to whisper, concoct lies, and find hiding spots.

*

The tears run dry and being tired gets tiring. Smiles play on their lips, and tragedy and comfort and broken lives are far less ribbons and much more planks that built a strip leading them away from the crashes.

Curiosity gets the best of everyone, but Cristina finally shuts everyone up with a “they’ve got their lives, now get your own” and as she tends to be, Cristina is absolutely right.

Addison stops searching, and things don’t really settle in for her, they just happen and either she deals with them or breathes them out. That’s the Addison she is.

The pause button comes along, too, but that falls more along the lines of unnecessary wants of life as opposed to necessary needs. (Translation: the pause button falls to the side of some road.)


End file.
